


graveyard spiral

by kemonomimi



Category: Show By Rock!! - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, M/M, heavy implications of Rom/Crow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:51:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5948002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kemonomimi/pseuds/kemonomimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On stage, they are gods.  Off stage, they begin their descent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	graveyard spiral

When they are on stage they are gods; not just Aion, but all four members of the Shingancrimsonz. At least that's what Aion thinks as he catches a glimpse of his bandmates under the stifling stage lights at the conclusion of a song -- even the loudmouth rodent is a god in those moments, even if he quickly begins a steady descent to mortalhood once he steps foot off the stage.

Rom is the next to descend back into the realm of mortals. He congratulates his fellow musicians on a job well done, grins at Crow's excitement about their growing fanbase, and he and the vocalist make their way into the dressing room. Aion's steps slow -- not just because of the look Rom threw over his shoulder as he closed two band mates out of the dressing room as Crow tugged on his vest -- but because Yaiba's footfalls slowed first. The soft thump against the wall is the only clue Aion needs about what's going on in the room, and his face heats up at the couple's lack of finesse. That is why Rom is the second to relinquish his godhood -- he gives in too easily to temptations of the flesh, more specially Crow's.

With a long-suffering sigh Aion starts walking. The click of his heels is mirrored by another's, and he doesn't have to look over his shoulder to confirm that Yaiba is following closely behind. Perhaps the distance between them is too short, for when Aion pauses briefly before turning down a darkened hallway, the bassist's nose bumps against his back.

He looks at the fox through the gaps between his fingers, hand covering his face. For an awkward moment they just stare silently at one another, two sets of ears perking for signs of anyone approaching. When they hear nothing but the faint cheering of fans on the opposite side of the venue, both slip into the abandoned hall.

Gloves slide against sweat-slicked skin, tracing the curve along Yaiba's spine down to the dimples that peek past the hem of his pants. Large, furry ears brush lightly over Aion's cheeks as he leans down to press a kiss to the bassist's mouth -- a kiss that turns into two kisses, three, four, until they're both panting and madly desiring closer contact. Aion noses blond-tipped strands out of the way to bite at Yaiba's neck, tongue flicking against the mark it leaves behind. His cheeks color at the audible hitch in his band mate's breath, at the low whine, and at the swish of his tail as Yaiba's hands fist in long, platinum hair.

Aion doesn't remember sliding a knee between Yaiba's, but he must have at some point during their passionate kisses because he can feel the heat of him there. He pauses to admire the bassist in the glow of the light from the end of the hall, the way it makes him look ephemeral, a partner suited to a god. Golden eyes peer back at him, cheeks flushed and brows furrowed with modesty at war with desire and shamelessness. It's that mixture of hesitance and boldness that endears the bassist to Aion; it makes him squeeze him close and kiss black-tipped ears while Yaiba traces his nimble fingertips along the triangular patch of skin Aion's wardrobe failed to cover. 

Yaiba will not begin his descent to mortalhood until they are home, not until he crawls into Aion's lap and they spend the night as lover's -- as they do most nights. When he's breathless against black and purple sheets, that is when he is no longer standing on his pedestal. But Aion will have fallen too -- he's still a god, he'll insist, but a god tortured by the desire for mortality. He will consign to accept Yaiba's worship, praise the dark hymns that fall from their lips as they taste ambrosia together. 

And when the day breaks they will wake together, and the cycle will begin anew.

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from old account, sorry.


End file.
